


Chamomile and Periwinkle

by Pogokitten



Series: Language of Flowers [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Canon Compliant, Chrom POV, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 07:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pogokitten/pseuds/Pogokitten
Summary: Robin gets injured saving Chrom, and the two get separated from the Shepherds in the mountains. They have to find shelter for the night. Fluff ensues.(Takes place after chapter 9 but before chapter 11)





	Chamomile and Periwinkle

“Chrom, move!” was the last thing he heard Robin shout before hands were on his back, pushing him forward forcefully. 

And then the world turned to snow and rocks as the landslide swept him up. He heard several of the Shepherds scream his name, and the horses and pegasi whiny with fright as the earth rumbled. The prince covered his head, taking cuts and bruises as the debris dragged him down the mountain. Although it seemed to last for minutes on end, it was over just as quickly as it started. One moment he was sliding uncontrollably and the next, he crashed roughly into a solid surface. 

Having the wind knocked out of him, Chrom laid where he was for a few brief moments fighting to get air back into his lungs. When he could finally breathe again, he pushed himself off the ground, holding back a pained groan. The prince took catalogue of his body and found that despite how far he had been dragged, he seemed to have only taken small wounds. Thank Naga.

Looking around he could see the avalanche had carried him a good way down the mountain and off any sort of path. The Shepherds had been traveling back to Ylisstol after saving a small mountain village from Risen. When they left, the grateful villagers had warned them to take care on the unstable roads, and now Chrom was regretting not taking the warning more seriously. Robin had also insisted it was too dangerous, but they had received word that brigands had overtaken another village and time was of the essence to reach it. 

Chrom stared up dazedly at the mountains trying to get his bearings. The landslide had dropped him down far enough from the peaks for the forest to creep up against the mountain’s side. Seeing as it was winter, everything was covered in a thick layer of snow, and the prince shivered even under the cloak Frederick had forced on him. 

He didn’t see any of the others- 

A soft sound of pain from nearby caught his attention. Robin was sprawled out face down in the snow, one of his legs partially buried in the debris from the landslide. His dark robe easily missed in the fading light, and tussled white hair blending in with the snowdrifts. 

Chrom rushed to his side and knelt, panic sparking up his spine. “Robin! Are you okay?!”

“No need to yell, Chrom, I’m right here.” the tactician grated out, propping himself up on his elbows. He looked back at his leg and grimaced. 

“I’m fine for the most part, but-” his friend hissed in pain when he tried to move, “my foot’s trapped.” he concluded.

“It’s probably just sprained. I don’t think it’s broken.” Robin tried to reassure Chrom, clearly seeing how quickly his expression turned to worry again.

“Just stay put, I’ll get you out.” the prince told him, putting a hand on the tactician’s shoulder. 

“Don’t worry I’m not going anywhere.” Robin said and rolled his eyes.

Chrom flushed slightly. “I meant-”

“I know.” his friend gave him a slight smile, dulled by the pinch of pain between his brows.

The prince shook his head at his friend’s teasing and began carefully shifting the rubble away from Robin’s injured leg. If the tactician could still use that sharp tongue of his, he couldn’t be that worse for wear. But still, being half buried in a landslide probably didn’t feel great. 

Chrom worked slowly, he did not want to move the wrong rock or shift the pile of dirt carelessly and make it worse. Not counting Sumia’s spectacular clumsiness, the prince was the biggest klutz within the Shepherds. For a little while he worked in concentrated silence, trying not to think of everything he’d ever damaged while training, before he couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“We slid pretty far down the mountain… Do you think the rest of the Shepherds are alright?” Chrom asked. 

“As long as they managed to avoid that landslide, I think they’re probably better than we are. I can’t hear them at all, so I have to assume that we’ve gotten separated from everyone.” Robin told him, clearly glad for the distraction. 

“What should we do?”

“It would probably be best to find shelter and warmth for the night, and then in the morning try to meet up with the rest of the Shepherds. I’m sure they’ll be looking for us.” Robin mused. 

“Yeah.” Chrom agreed, thinking of how worried Frederick and Lissa must be.

Silence fell again while the prince worked, the sun sinking lower. He couldn’t help feeling rather frustrated and guilty. This wasn’t the first time Robin had rushed to his rescue. Everyone said that Chrom was the reckless one, but his tactician had been pulling some insane stunts lately. Just last week he’d tackled him out of the way of a sword master’s strike and gotten quiet the gash in return. And although Chrom _ had _ needed help, this was getting excessive. 

“Why did you push me out of the way?” Chrom finally asked, unable to hold the question back. 

“I’d rather take a fixable injury than our leader die to some loose mountain dirt.” Robin huffed, as if it should be obvious. 

The prince frowned. “I would have been fine.” 

“Chrom, you didn’t even see it coming. It would have hit you full force if I hadn’t shoved you clear.” the tactician countered. 

Chrom’s blood started to simmer. “That still doesn’t mean it would have done me serious harm, there was no reason to put yourself in danger! You could have died!”

“You still don’t understand. You’re the most important piece on the board. If the Shepherds lose you, it’s game over. I know you like to think you’re equal with everyone else, but you need to be more aware of your station.” his friend glared up at him.

The prince let out a long sigh. This was becoming a common argument with Robin ever since he had chased off a bandit that had been slinking around the Shepherd’s camp a week ago. He already got enough from Frederick, Chrom didn’t need Robin in on it too. 

“Let’s not do this again. At least not right now.” the prince grumbled, his jaw set. 

“Fine.” the tactician said, even if he still looked like he wanted to argue. 

After moving one last rock out of the way, his friend let out a pained whimper and his foot slipped free of the debris. Just in time, as the shift caused a few more rocks to tumble down, barely missing the two of them. The prince grabbed Robin under his shoulders and pulled him a safe distance from the unstable mountain side. 

His friend's breath snagged in pain and Chrom’s anger fizzled out, as he settled him back on the ground. The tactician was the type to hide his pain and wounds for fear of slowing his allies down. For him to be showing signs of how uncomfortable he was… 

“Thanks.” Robin breathed, pulling his injured leg close with a wince. 

“We need to get your boot off, if it swells your foot could get trapped in there.” the prince warned, examining his friend for any other injuries but thankfully finding none. 

The tactician nodded and reached down to remove it, but it was clear even the gentlest tugs were causing him a lot of pain. After a few whimper inducing attempts, he gave up and looked up at Chrom helplessly. 

“It won’t come off. I think it may have already swollen too far.” 

“We’re going to have to cut off your boot then.” the prince sighed, already worrying about the tactician getting frostbitten toes without a shoe. 

“...Alright. You’d better not cut my foot off though. I won’t be much use on the battlefield without it.” the tactician joked warily, pulling a pocket knife from inside his robe and handing it to the prince with shaky hands. 

Chrom huffed in mock offense. “I’m not _ that _ clumsy.”

“The last three broken training dummies beg to differ.” 

To be honest, cutting away his friend’s boot was rather nerve racking, but the prince’s hands were steady and careful thanks to his diligent training in swordplay. As he finally peeled the tough leather away from the tactician’s foot he sucked in a sharp breath. 

Robin’s ankle was a mess. Angry purpling bruises covered his tan skin, and the area around the joint was already swollen. But worst of all his foot was bent at an impossible angle. Chrom felt his stomach drop at the sight. That was far more than a sprain. 

“Ah, well, It could be broken.” Robin managed, turning green at the sight of his leg. 

“Don’t look at it. I don’t think it’s broken, but it is dislocated.” Chrom tried to soothe, taking Robin’s face in his hands and physically dragging his gaze away. He’d seen Lissa do this before, distracting injured soldiers from horrific injuries. 

“Great.” the tactician let out a shaky sigh, and closed his eyes. 

The prince took a deep breath. “We have to pop it back into the socket.” 

Robin’s eyes flew open. “Wh-What?” 

“We can’t leave your ankle like that Robin. You’re running on adrenaline right now, but you’re going to be in a lot of pain when you calm down, if you aren’t already. Besides the longer it’s like that the more damage you’re going to do to it.” Chrom warned.

The tactician bit his lip, crumpled expression making it clear his ankle already hurt a great deal. “Do… Do you know how to do that?”

“I’ve helped Lissa pop a few joints back into place for the Shepherds, so I know the concept. Will you let me?” 

His friend looked close to passing out while he hesitated, but eventually nodded. 

Robin flinched at the prince’s first touch on his injured leg, but seemed to force himself to relax. Chrom was trying to be as gentle as possible. He had a bad habit of breaking things, and he really didn’t want one of those things to be Robin. 

With his left hand he grasped Robin’s leg just above the ankle, and placed his right around the sole of his friend’s foot. The tactician whimpered a bit but made no other protests. Once he was in position, the prince hesitated. From his own experience with a dislocated shoulder when he was young, Chrom knew this was going to hurt a lot. 

“I trust you.” Robin said weakly, and locked his honey golden eyes with the prince’s deep blue ones. 

“Alright, bare with me.” Chrom told him, a grim set to his mouth. 

As he began to push and shift against the tactician's foot, Robin hissed in pain and grabbed Chrom’s shoulders for support. His friend let out a strangled shout, tears springing to his eyes, biting his bottom lip to keep from screaming. The tactician’s grip on the prince’s shoulders became bruising. He wasn’t sure Robin could handle the intense pain much longer, and felt himself break out in a worried sweat. 

Come on… Almost… 

And then, Chrom felt the joint slide into place under his hands. With one last pained gasp, Robin went slack against him, breathing heavily. They sat like that for a few moments, the prince putting a hand up to the back of his friend’s head in comfort, murmuring soothing things in his ear. Eventually Robin’s ragged breathing started to even out. 

“You okay?” Chrom asked quietly. 

The tactician nodded against his shoulder still not quite able to speak, and the prince pulled back to look at him. Robin’s usually bronze skin was pale, unshed tears still glistening in the corners of his eyes. He was covered in dirt and snow, and Chrom figured he looked much the same. 

Taking the pocket knife, the prince cut a swath off the bottom of his cloak. Using a nearby stick cut down to size, he braced his friend’s ankle as best he could, apologizing when Robin let out soft hisses of pain. It wasn’t great, but if nothing else, the torn fabric might spare the tactician from frostbite. 

“Until we can get you to a healer, you aren’t going to be able to walk on that.” the prince told him, glancing down at the now wrapped foot. 

With how badly dislocated that had been, Robin probably had a few torn ligaments and Chrom doubted he’d be able to put weight on it. Even with a skilled healer this was an injury that would take a few weeks to mend. 

“...Sorry.” the tactician mumbled, still breathless, eyes still glazed. 

“What in Naga’s name are you apologizing for?” then it dawned on the prince and he scowled, “Gods please don’t tell me you mean your ankle. Robin, accidents happen on marches. It’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s it’s mine for pushing us to take that road.”

His friend looked down at that, voice unsteady as he spoke. “We…can’t stay out in the open like this… We need to find shelter.” 

Before Chrom could even try to push the subject Robin had dropped so quickly, the tactician tried to stand. 

“Stop, I’ll carry you.” Chrom rushed to push Robin back down gently. 

“I don’t need-”

“Yes you do. Now get on.” the prince interrupted, kneeling down with his back to his friend.

Robin gave him a dubious look, some of the focus back in his eyes now. “A piggy-back ride? Seriously?” 

“It’s faster and easier than me trying to prop you up while we trudge through the snow. I do the same for Lissa sometimes when her feet hurt too bad during marches.” 

“I remember. You offered to carry me once as well.” 

“Yes, and Lissa interrupted before you gave me an answer. So? What’ll it be?” the prince asked, motioning for Robin to climb on. 

“Okay, okay, you’d better not drop me though.”

“I’m not Sumia!” Chrom huffed, half irritated, half amused. 

That got a small chuckle out of Robin, and he carefully looped his arms around Chrom’s neck. Once he was sure the tactician had a good hold, the prince stood up, adjusting his grip. Robin was far lighter than he had expected, even with his small stature. Under his baggy clothes, he was deceptively lean to the point of scrawniness. Although Chrom could feel the strong muscles in his friend's thighs where his hands held him up. 

It had not crossed his mind until Robin’s chest was pressed against his back with his breath puffing against the prince’s neck that this was a rather...intimate position, and Chrom’s face heated slightly. But he did his best to push away such thoughts. Now was not the time or place. 

“You okay?” the prince asked glancing over his shoulder. 

Robin had pulled his hood up against the chill, but Chrom swore he could see a pink tinge under the shadow of the cowl.

“Yes.” 

“Alright…” 

Chrom started wading through the calf deep snow towards the forest on his friend’s suggestion. The silence of the woods was unnerving. Night had fallen and although a mostly full moon shone, visibility was low. He was on edge. Carrying Robin as he was, they were defenseless. Chrom knew that Risen and wild beasts alike stalked these mountains, and so he moved carefully and kept his eyes peeled. 

“What are we looking for?” the prince asked quietly after a few minutes. 

“A cave would be best, if we could find one. It will cut down our exposure to the elements and is a decent defensible position, should something attack. If not we could try to make a shelter out of tree branches, although I don’t know how much help I’ll be.” the tactician responded equally soft. 

The Chrom smiled a bit. As usual he was impressed with Robin’s ability to plan and adapt so quickly, even in as much pain as he likely was. It had saved their lives on more than one occasion, and the prince could no longer imagine the Shepherds without the tactician. It felt like he’d always been a part of their little militia. 

Thankfully after less than a half an hour of searching, they found an alcove in the side of the mountain that widened into a small cave. The entrance was a bit of a squeeze but the inside was big enough to fit several people comfortably, even if the ceiling was claustrophobically low. Chrom knelt so that Robin could slide off his back, being careful of his ankle. 

“How are you doing?” the prince asked. 

“I’ll live, but we need a fire or we’ll both catch our death of cold.” the tactician said, wincing and pulling his leg into a more comfortable position. 

Chrom nodded. “I’ll see if I can scrounge up some dry wood.”

***

By the time Chrom made it back to their cave laden with firewood, he was well and truly tired, the cold finally having wormed its way under his warm cloak. Inside, Robin was waiting, shivers running through him as well. But he brightened slightly when the prince entered and began arranging the kindling. The tactician reached into his cloak pulling out a small metal box which he wordlessly passed to the prince. 

“Going anywhere without flint is a fool’s errand.” Robin smirked at Chrom’s surprised look. 

“What else have you got in there?” the prince asked, taking the flint out and sparking the fire to life. 

“Anything I might need.” Robin said, pulling out a vulnerary, waterskin, and small pouch from the deep inner pockets of his robe. 

Inside the pouch was an assortment of dried fruits and jerky, which Chrom divided between them with a small smile. “Always prepared.” 

“Of course. What good is a tactician that can’t even plan for getting lost in the wilderness?” his friend joked, some of his shivering abating as the fire began to warm them. 

They sat for a few moments eating the preserved rations and listening to the howl of the wind outside. Chrom couldn’t help how his eyes kept drifting to Robin in the small space. The thin sliver of moonlight coloring his pale hair, the way the fire made his honey-golden eyes look molten, the small smile he gave the prince when he caught him staring. 

“Something wrong?”

“No, it’s, uh,” Chrom scrambled for an answer, “This brings back memories.” 

“Oh?” Robin asked, a teasing eyebrow cocked. 

The prince chuckled nervously. “One time, when Lissa and I were much younger, we got it into our heads to go camping. You know ruffing it in the woods, catching fish from the river, then falling asleep under the stars. But, well, there was lot of turmoil back then, Emm was only a few years into her reign…” 

As he trailed off, Chrom caught the way Robin’s expression grew even more pained at the mention of his older sister and quickly shook off his melancholy. That wound was still too fresh for both of them. Even thinking of it now was too much. 

The prince shook his head and continued. “-Anyway, everyone told us we couldn’t, but that’s never stopped Lissa and I from getting into trouble. So we packed a few knapsacks and snuck off into the woods behind the palace.” 

The tactician’s lips twitched upwards.“You didn’t.” 

“We did. It was late autumn too.” Chrom shot him a grin. 

“So what happened?” 

“It was a disaster of course. First off we hadn’t brought much in the way of warm clothing so we were both freezing. When we tried to go fishing, I accidentally broke the rods. We got completely lost and then Lissa fell and scraped her knee. She burst into tears and I had no idea what to do.” the prince explained, wincing at the memory. 

“Did you manage to find your way back to the castle?” Robin asked.

Chrom shook his head. “Not long before sunset, Frederick finally found us, huddled in the hollow trunk of an old tree.” 

“I imagine he was quite angry.”

“He was livid. Lissa and I weren’t allowed to step foot out of the castle for two weeks after that.” the prince lamented. 

“Sounds like something reckless and foolish you would do.” Robin laughed a bit. 

“It’s no secret I’m a bit rash.” 

“Don’t I know it.” the tactician groaned, shoulders slumping.

They both laughed, the sound echoing like bells in the small cavern. A mingling of shared joy Chrom could no longer picture living without. The two finished up their meager meal, and recounted some of their more foolhardy exploits as the night wore on. Meanwhile, Chrom spread the vulnerary over the small cuts he and his friend had gotten, taking great care with the tactician's wounds, and hating that the salve would do nothing for his friend’s ankle.

Only when Robin’s eyelids began to droop did the prince finally sigh and lean back against the rock. 

“We should get some rest.”

The tactician shook himself awake slightly and hummed in drowsy agreement. “We should have someone on watch. I’ll-”

“I’ll take the first shift.” the prince interrupted, already knowing where this would go. 

Robin’s brows furrowed. “Chrom-” 

The prince cut off his protests. “I don’t want to hear it, Robin. You’re hurt and need to get some rest for once. Don’t think I haven’t seen the light on in your tent at all hours every night.” 

That made the tactician bite back his protests, ears turning pink as golden eyes shifted away. 

“It’s fine I don’t sleep well anyway…” 

Chrom frowned, shifting closer and forcing Robin to meet his gaze. “Just try? Please?”

“Okay…fine. ” the tactician muttered after several moments, his face red, breaking away by tugging his cowl lower. 

Grinning at his surprisingly easy victory, the prince scooted closer, pulling off his cloak and wrapping it around both of them. 

“How’s this? We’ll be warmer this way.” Chrom suggested, although he couldn’t deny that he had an ulterior motive in wanting to basically cuddle with his tactician. 

“It’s- It’s fine,” Robin stammered, ducking his head, “Wake me in a few hours.” 

The tactician tentatively let his weight relax against the prince in increments, the warmth and the crackle of the fire clearly lulling him to sleep. In pain as he was, Robin fell asleep surprisingly quickly, his limp form soon slumping against the prince as his breathing evened out. Hesitantly, Chrom wrapped his arm around his tactician, pulling Robin more snugly up against him. Unconsciously his friend snuggled closer, sighing softly. 

It made Chrom’s heart flutter. Sure the two of them had always been close. But this was different than the casual way Chrom slung his arm around Robin’s shoulders, and the time they shared a tent when supplies were low, or even carrying the tactician to bed when he inevitably crashed at his desk. It was so much more intimate, with his friend's warm body pressed against his. And that they were well and truly alone together. 

Chrom had become embarrassingly aware of his feelings after they’d lost his sister in Plegia. Robin had been by his side unfalteringly, even at his lowest point. The tactician had pulled him out of that hell, and led them when the world had come crashing down. And when Chrom had broken out of his grief enough to function again… he realized just how much he needed Robin. Loved him. Much more than a friend, but much different than a brother.

It had felt like fate, pulling Robin up in that field. So it was only logical then that with all the tactician had done for them, Chrom felt as if Robin held their destinies in his hands. Hands he trusted more than any others’. Or maybe that was his own longing, for he and his friend to be bound by fate.

The prince leaned his head against Robin’s, taking comfort in the gentle rise and fall of the tactician's chest. One day he wanted to tie that knot for real and truly bind their fates. Gods he hoped Robin felt the same. Chrom let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and just allowing himself to bask in the tactician's warmth, the scent of parchment and warm sands that was undeniably _ Robin _. 

For now, this was enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Another update! I've had this half written for like 2 months lol. I know I said I'd alternate, but I really wanted a hurt/comfort for MRobin, since FRobin got one already. This one might get expanded on later too (I'll be sure to update with that if it happened) Next one is probs gonna be FChrobin domestic fluff, since MRobin got one of those. Anyway hope you guys enjoyed that, please let me know what you think and feel free to suggest prompts for these!


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